


Kneading

by orphan_account



Category: Gangsta. (Manga)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Phone Sex, Public Masturbation, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 05:01:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4774505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Galahad and Hausen enjoy a little chat over the phone. Mutual masturbation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kneading

**Author's Note:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Galahad clutched the phone, clearing his throat loudly. He nodded at a waiter who shot him a questioning glance. Bastard was still gearing up for the show later that night, and he was passing time in a very unexpected way.

Hausen's velvety voice was a constant murmur in his ear. "...And then I want you to shove your dick in me so hard I come before you even have a chance to jerk me off-"

"Ohh! Wow! That's great!" Galahad laughed loudly as Loretta passed by. He wasn't sure if she could hear, but better to be safe than sorry. He shifted the base of the rotary phone slightly, trying to cover up his erection. He'd never really put much thought into why packing as much as he was could ever be a problem, but in a public place hearing Hausen dirty talk him...

"Hausen, I love our talks, but-"

"I'll suck your finger, and we won't have to wait as long with you stretching me out," Hausen purred.

Galahad worked to slow his heart rate again, taking deep breaths to avoid looking like he was panting.

"Hausen," he choked out, his voice cracking, embarrassing and somehow more exciting. Hausen loved it when he started to get hot and bothered."I'd like that," Galahad confided, trying desperately to sound like was in control. He could go along with this game.

"Really?" Hausen's voice questioned over the earpiece.

"Mm, yeah," he hummed. He couldn't speak about it openly. He was going to have to get creative if he wanted to thoroughly enjoy this.

"You've always been a good cook. You're always the best with meats." 'Meats. Really, Galahad. Very original.' He mentally kicked himself. He wasn't sure if he could work this angle.

"I always thought I was a bread guy. I'm good at kneading hard things until they rise."

Good Lord, that man was smooth. Galahad smiled, enjoying where this was going.

"Yeah, you've certainly got a way with you hands. Always covered in white stuff afterwards, though." He smirked, jokingly adding, "All that flour. I love it when you get it on your face."

"Please. You like it because I'm on my knees sucking you off while you watch. I like that, too, though. Mm, I could lick from the head to your balls... then back to the head... Up your stomach," Hausen teased, whispering breathily into the receiver. Galahad strained to hear him.

"Don't get too hasty. If you don't let your yeast get warm, your dough won't rise all the way. Besides, a little extra attention to a few spots never hurt," Galahad said, feeling bolder -- he was pretty proud of that line. His pants were starting to get a little too tight, though. He was far too turned on to make it to the bathroom at this point, and he didn't want to hang up when Hausen was in this kind of mood. He wondered if he could touch himself and pass it off as scratching his balls.

"Don't think I forgot about your nipples," Hausen admonished. "I'd work my way to them, sucking and biting one, teasing the other. When they were covered in spit, I'd kiss up your neck. Touch that place you like so much."

Galahad couldn't keep back the moan, but thankfully it was low enough that he felt certain no one heard it. He was squirming, though, needing to feel something -- anything -- pressing against him. He looked down at the phone, his mind screaming at him to carry out his bad idea. Galahad looked around to see if anyone was paying too much attention to him. No, it looked like most of the preparations were made. Most everyone was taking a break, getting ready elsewhere aside for a small group of men all the way at the front, playing cards.

This was reckless, but damn he didn't give a fuck. He began moving the base of the phone against his hard length. A shiver raced up his spine, and he could feel his nipples harden. "Hausen, I wish you were here to suck my- Ah, um..." Fuck.

"Patience, _Manager_."

Galahad could imagine the way Hausen's tongue flicked up on the 'r.' Oh, the things that tongue could do.

"So, Galahad, then I would lick your bottom lip, bite it a little. I'd kiss you, and then tug on your lip ring," Hausen threatened.

Galahad closed his eyes, letting them roll back into his head. The edges of the phone were a little bit uncomfortable, but if he angled it the right way, he could get a good, long stroke in without it looking too suspicious. He was shifting in the too small seat, as well, so that he could better conceal his public display of lust.

"Alright, just don't let the yeast sit there too long. You need flour for everything to thicken up and come together," Galahad said, pleading. Shaky.

Hausen's soft laugh made Galahad's stomach flip, and he was full of butterflies and the kind of love that made you feel warm when it was cold outside.

"So finally, I'd kiss you, bite your lips some more, we could make out while I slowly, slowly wrap my hand around your dick and give you a few good pumps. I'll rub that spot on the underside right by your head. Smear the cum around. You can put that finger to good use, so we can get straight to fucking." Hausen's voice was low now, but Galahad could hear jerky movements in the background, the sound of Hausen's stiff flak jacket the only indication that the other man was doing much more than torturing him.

Fuck it, Galahad thought, grabbing a magazine from the side table and tenting it over the phone and his hand. He moved the heavy base back far enough that he could stroke himself. He hoped, somewhere beyond the thick haze of need, that no one could see his arm moving.

"Oh, Galahad. And then- then- Ah! _Galahad_!" Hausen whimpered. The sound of fabric was louder now, and Galahad could tell he wasn't the only one on the verge of release.

"What. What are you gonna do, Hausen? Fuck me?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"Yes. _Yes_! I'm going to lower myself down onto you so slow, and I'm going to sit there until you..." Hausen swallowed, breathing hard. "Until you can't stand it. And then I'm going to ride you until you come inside me so hard you can't remember your fucking name..."

Galahad felt his mouth drop open as his orgasm started, warm and prickly in his toes and then shooting up into his stomach. He could feel the hot, sticky wetness accumulate against his skin, and he was glad he had readjusted his dick so that it lay pointing up, flush with his stomach. Anyone that saw the stain might think he had spilled water on himself.

He rubbed the edges of his head a few more times, enjoying the feeling of his muscles spasming. Over the phone, he could hear Hausen wildly fucking himself, the creaking of bed springs joining the rustle of sheets. He'd probably shoved that fuckin' dildo up his ass that Galahad had gotten him for his birthday gift. Galahad leaned his head back, eyes still closed, imagining Hausen bouncing, legs shaky, chest pink, up and down on him, his tongue flicking back and forth out of his wide open mouth. He could picture the trail of saliva dripping down to his chest.

His favorite part was the image of Hausen completely uncaring, one hand wrapped around his cock, the other tugging at his balls.

"Don't forget to put it in the oven," Galahad rumbled, rubbing the base of his dick lightly.

A few more moments passed, marked by Hausen's strained laugh, and finally, finally... Galahad enjoyed the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. Hausen's needy whine, signaling his orgasm, followed by an incessant chant of, "Galahad, Galahad, _Galahad, **fuck me**_." And then it was quiet, except for the sound of his heart in his ears and Hausen's soft mewling. Galahad felt himself relax, not realizing he had been breathing so quickly.

"Well," Galahad sighed, "I think we need to bake bread more often."

Hausen's hoarse chuckle brought a blush to his cheeks. "Next time, why don't you just come over here and bend me over next time I call."

Galahad smiled, assessing the damage done to his pants. "Promises, promises. Next you're gonna want a ring."


End file.
